I didn’t even hear them coming. One minute I was laughing at the insanity of it all, and suddenly they were just…onme.
No more blindfolds…
I open my eyes and square my shoulders, preparing to face my doom head on.
But the monsters who’ve come to claim me aren’t mages at all. They’re…
Gargoyles.Fucking gargoyles.
No, not the proud, melancholic statues I wished upon at the cathedral, but something else entirely. Mythical beasts that are part man, part monster, their hulking forms dressed in nothing but loincloths, their skin the color of river stones. Every muscle ripples with power.
I stumble backward and fall on my ass as the trio of winged creatures lands in the grass before me, quickly closing ranks. Horns and sharp claws flash in the moonlight, and I swear one of them smiles, his fangs glinting like knives.
A spark of mischief alights in those mysterious cobalt eyes, and in an instant, I know.
The scream lodged in my throat doesn’t even make it past my lips before two clawed hands clamp around my arms, and suddenly I’m being hefted up from the grass and tossed unceremoniously over a rock-hard shoulder, ass in the air, arms dangling helplessly over a leathery wing.
“And here I thought we were getting on so well,” Jude the gargoyle says, giving my backside a pat. “Draegan’s going to be very, very disappointed in you, scarecrow.”
Chapter Seventeen
DRAEGAN
Not more than five minutes after the grand escape attempt, Jude hauls the girl into the study, quite literally kicking and screaming.
Unsurprising, given the gargoyles have dropped their human glamours. Rook comes in next, and even with the scholarly wireframe glasses perched on his delicate nose, he looks downright menacing. Augustine brings up the rear, his fangs and claws sharp enough to frighten even the toughest fighter.
And despite her best attempts at swinging, this girl is no bruiser.
Jude sets her on her feet, but doesn’t release her from his hold, his big hands clamped around her arms.
“Cat’s out of the bag, I see.” I rise from the sofa and let my own glamour fall away, grateful for an excuse to dispense with the charade. Maintaining it makes navigating the human realm easier, but it’s physically exhausting.
Westlyn’s eyes widen, and I know at once she recognizes me from the bell tower.
“You,” she breathes. “You… you’re…”
“Draegan Caldwell,” I say pleasantly. “And my associates, Augustine Lamont and Rook Van Doren. You’re already acquainted with Jude Hendrix, of course.”
Jude presses his nose to the top of her head and inhales deeply, making her shudder. “We go way back. Don’t we, darling?”
“You know what?” she snaps. “Fuck youandyour almond joy lattes.” She tries unsuccessfully to jerk free of his grasp, but she can’t hide the flare of desire in her eyes.
Augustine dips his head close to hers and says, “You’re only encouraging him, witchling. Nothing Jude loves more than a woman who puts up a fight.”
The girl seethes in Jude’s grip. “Look, I don’t know who you monsters think you are, but you can’t keep me locked up in this ridiculous mountain hideaway like some kind of—”
“Blackmoor Manor, it’s called,” I supply, “named for my home village in Britain. Well, itusedto be in Britain, until the dark fae torched it along with every other village in the vicinity, but that’s neither here nor—”
“Blackmoor?” Her eyes widen once more. “As in Blackmoor Capital?”
“You’ve heard of us? Excellent! Yes, my associates and I—”
“Own the cathedral where the Archmage and my parents tried to bind me to a demon.” Her nostrils flare, and when she jerks against his hold now, Jude finally releases her. Rubbing her arms, she scowls at me and says, “So you guys were in on it, too?Goddess, I should’ve known. I bet everyone in attendance knew. Oh, yay! Here comes the bride! Let’s all raise a glass to the dumb little witch about to pledge her life to Hell! Cheers!”
“As I recall,” I say, taking a step toward her, “youaskedmefor help. Nearly begged me for it, actually.”
“Help, yes. Not a Dungeons-and-Dragons-inspired kidnapping role-play, you sicko.”
